


Brooklyn Boys Ride Easy

by Iamtheanti337



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Motorcycles, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Has Issues, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers's Motorcycle, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, how many tags is too many?, stucky feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10935711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamtheanti337/pseuds/Iamtheanti337
Summary: "I can't tell if it's some kind of brain damage or if you are just batcats head over heels for your apparently not so dead best friend turned super bad guy and this is how you are coping, but whatever it is..." Sam pauses and puts his hand on Steve's shoulder, taking a deep breath before going on, "Just make sure you don't lose your pretty over sized blonde head about it."orSam is a bro, Steve is a dad, Bucky's a mess, aww, Clint noo..., Nat's bamf,  and somehow they are all gonna have to get along and figure out how to live featuring motorcycle cops, HYDRA as a bad guy MC and you know, stuff and things.





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> So! this could be super fun or really terrible, I'm not sure yet. All I know is this idea started forming last year. Then, I was in the hospital after a bad motorcycle accident, I found a couple Stuckys that had Bucky as this bamf motorcycle enthusiast. I thought, 'Oh man this is so BUCKY... oh and what if Steve was a motorcycle cop! oh and they did war things together and Hydra was a bad guy motorcycle club?! oh snap I MUST make this real!'.
> 
> So... I did, and here is it's first installment...

Rapid gunfire popped around the small group of men remaining, twelve men circled up in a defensive huddle were all that was left of the Howling Commandos special division of the 107th. The stench of seared flesh and waste almost as hard to stomach as the trap they had marched right into. They had been lured to the location by a false SOS and they were paying heavily for it.

“Taking heavy fire from all sides, we need extraction!” Captain Rogers screamed into his headset, he refused to allow his near panic to take him out of this situation, but he felt damn close to losing it with his men pinned down and no escape routes in sight. “How copy?!” he called out as a RPG blast caused the very sand under their feet to quake. 

“Good copy Captain, extraction in route, you should see the cavalry in 3 mikes.” Came back the grainy reply in Gabe’s voice through his earpiece. 

“Sergeant Barnes copy direct, We will hold position.” came Bucky’s tone, confident and calm, he was in what was affectionately known as ‘killer mode’ by the Howlies. Bucky cut Steve a quick look and called over the din of war, “Cool it Cap, we got this, we can hol...”  
His voice cut out abruptly in a pained grunt as hot sub machine brass cut through his left forearm up to his bicep. He was in shock instantly, he tried to fight through the dazed fog when he heard Steve yelling, “Buck, look at me! Hang in there pal, come on buddy...” and then the world for him went black.

Steve felt that panic take over the second he saw Bucky close his eyes, “Sergeant Barnes is hit! He’s hit!” he couldn’t control his voice for a moment, his best friend in the world was bleeding out and all he could do was panic and apply pressure to the nasty chunk of missing bicep. Breathing through his nose he forced his eyes shut against the tears cutting tracks down his dirty face. The sound of at least two approaching choppers perked his ears and he screamed at Dum-Dum, “Tell me that’s a friendly?!”

Dugan’s booming voice confirmed it was in fact air support to lend cover fire so the following rescue could do their thing. ‘Thank god.’ Steve thinks as a Pararescueman drops down behind their position and starts hooking Bucky up for transport. The kind looking black man looks at Steve with sympathy in his eyes and grabs his shoulder, “We got’im man, don’t worry about it, he’s in good hands.” he consoles, Steve can only nod and watch as Bucky is extracted from their current hell. In a matter of minutes, Sergeant Barnes of the 107th Howling Commandos is strapped in and miles away from that place, the only sign he had been there at all in the form of baking brass and drying blood. 

Had Steve known it would be the last time he would see his friend, he likes to think he would have done something differently.


	2. The space between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the original Chapter 1, but it kinda just happened organically so here it is.

Rogers senior was an american man of some note, meeting his Irish wife in the UK while he was still in the service and conceiving little Steve was the highlight of his life. He was KIA in Desert Storm and with a heavy heart, Sarah took her baby boy back to her late husband’s hometown of Brooklyn. This is how Steve and Bucky met and grew up together in a Brooklyn slowly being gentrified into the hipster mecca it is today. They bonded as being the Mick boys in class, Steve being the first generation born in the US and Bucky from a long line of Irish descent. 

Back then, Steve was a ten pound ball of rage and righteousness in an often sick two pound sack. With the help of his mother being a nurse, Bucky teaching him how to box and a healthy growth spurt at puberty, he grew out of his sick frame into a healthy young man the US Army was proud to take on and turn into the brick shit house he is today by sending the man to two full tours in active combat zones. 

Bucky on the other hand? He was the classic all American dreamboat. He was always fit and smooth with anyone that fell into his snares, the only weak spots in his black Irish armour was scrawny little Steve and his little sister Rebecca. They were inseparable from the ages of 8 on, did everything together, including but not limited to (Steve) getting into fights, getting into mischievous (Bucky) trouble and enlisting in the Army. Then, he’d had to keep his mouth shut and cock soft as he slept next to his steadily bulking best friend for fear of being drummed out on a dishonourable and being sent away from the love of his life. If he was back home, he couldn’t watch Steve’s back - and that wasn’t going to fly since he’d been stupid over the guy since they were teenagers. 

When Steve met Peggy Carter at a party after their graduation from basic training, that all changed. Bucky was still head over heels for Steve, but he saw the way those baby blues locked on the prettiest gal in the room. He noticed her taking notice of Steve and felt like rocks had dropped into his gut, he knew this was best for his sweet Stevie. He knew the blonde wanted a family, knew he had always wanted to get married and do the white picket fence deal. He didn’t want to stop him from having that, and after meeting Peggy himself? Well, he couldn’t ask for a better woman for Stevie, it broke his heart of course, but Sarah Rogers had once said to him in her lilting Irish broge, “If you love something, you set it free. If it comes back, it's meant to be yours.”

So Bucky let go and watched his best guy marry the best gal he’s ever known. He was the best man at their wedding, he isn’t even ashamed that he cried - he just tells people it was because he was so happy. No one could hear his heart breaking over the loud applause and cheers of their company celebrating the union. If anyone noticed Bucky slip away early into the reception, of course it was Steve. The groom excused himself and found his best man sitting outside the rented event hall half way through a Malboro. 

“I thought you were quittin?” he said quietly.

Bucky startled, bowing his head to hide his leaking eyes, “Yeah, me too pal.” He shrugs, “Guess it’s the drinkin that drove me to it.” he adds with a self depreciating chuckle. 

Steve nods, amazingly, not opening his stupid beautiful mouth. He just reached out and used a large arm to pull Bucky into his massive chest. He’s such a good guy, he doesn’t even comment when the brunette shudders, wrinkles his dress uniform with one hand clenching in the fabric over Steve's pec. For a few moments they just stand there, Steve confused and Bucky just trying to soak up the contact he didn’t have a right to anymore. “Buck… you okay?” comes a hesitant voice that rumbles against Bucky's cheek, then he feels a large soothing hand against his back and he almost breaks. He wants to tell Steve everything but he can’t, he deflects with a bitter chuckle. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be Punk?” It might have been more convincing if it wasn’t punctuated by a sniffle. Steve’s face scrunches up in further confusion then smoothes out as an idea strikes him, “You miss home, huh?” he asks as if this is the obvious answer and Bucky runs with it. 

After a few years, they get the amazing news, Peggy is pregnant. It’s a girl! 

They name her Lillian Sarah Rogers-Carter, they ask Bucky to be the godfather and of course he agrees. Steve tells him one night while they are on patrol that he couldn’t be happier, that he is so glad his kid will grow up knowing his best friend. He goes on to say when Bucky has kids they can grow up together and be best friends just like they did. Bucky drops the bomb on him then, “Stevie, I’m gay.”. Steve stops in his tracks and looks like he is trying to do his best impersonation of a Venus Fly-trap. Bucky puffs up his chest waiting for Steve’s response which is not what he expected. The big idiot just walked over and gathered Bucky into his arms, slotting them together perfectly. His voice was strained and oddly shakey as he took a deep breath, “Okay Buck, it’s gonna be okay… I won’t tell nobody.”. Bucky nodded against his meaty shoulder and pulled away, “Still want me around your kid, Rogers?”

Steve’s face crumbled then, “Of course Bucky! Why wouldn’t I? This doesn’t change anything! You're still my best friend!” his voice was sure again, full of that old rage at injustice. He wasn’t lying either, not much did change, they stayed best friends. Even if Steve didn’t smile quite as much, didn’t reach out for Bucky as often. That was part of the reason Bucky’s heart stayed broken, he couldn’t shake the feeling Steve’s was broken too. 

Lily is born, Bucky somehow manages to be there. Peggy even lets Bucky hold Lily once Steve has, they all smile at one another and coo over the sweet newborn girl. Bucky leaves the happy couple to call his mom and do breathing exercises, “Stevie's gotta healthy baby girl, prettiest little thing I ever saw Ma!” Bucky can hear her crying, “Oh, I wish Sarah could see her.”

Bucky's sure Steve wished that too, Ma filled in best she could but was no Sarah. Bucky closed his eyes, “Yeah, me too…”. A warm arm wrapped around his shoulders and forced his eyes to snap open, “Is that Ma?” came Steve’s excited voice. Bucky smiled and handed over his phone, if he leaned into the other man’s side, it wasn’t mentioned. 

Two months later, it happens. Bucky is shot and evacuated from the active zone back to the medical tents at the base of operations. He has enough time to be rushed into a triage station before all hell breaks loose. The handsome guy carrying the gurney closest to his feet, Wilson, takes a shot to the shoulder. Bucky is splattered with blood and brain matter from the white guy carrying near his head. Blasts are going off all around them but Bucky rolls over his mangled arm and uses the good one to grab Wilson and cover him. Wilson is whimpering in pain, it sort of sounds like he is saying “Riley, oh god, Riley baby, not you.”

Next thing Bucky knows, there is a big guy in a STRIKE uniform hauling him up and practically tossing him into the back of a personnel transport HUMVEE. That isn't right, aren't the STRIKE team on their side?  
The next time Bucky wakes up, he’s strapped to a metal table minus one arm.  
After that, waking is a sign of more hell. He forgets his own name. He forgets when and where he is. What he does remember? Baby blues and his serial number, 32557038. It’s all he can remember when the extraction team comes for him and the other POWs. During his debriefing, they tell him his name is James Barnes and he’s American, from New York. They send him home with a pension, a load of contracts stating he is not dead but not allowed to talk about it and a reference for a vetted shrink.

It takes him months to relax even a fraction, but during that time he discovers in himself a deep love for all things mechanical wondering if it's from before? It hurts to think about so, he just rolls with it. He applies and is accepted into an experimental Stark program geared towards vets. Gets himself a shiny new metal arm and uses what’s left of his POW back pay to buy a blacked out Harley. He also finds out that due to the sensitive nature of his capture and liberation, his name has been stricken from any official records. As far as anyone outside knows, he was Killed in Action. This never sits right, but his therapist, a grandfatherly Alexander Peirce, tells him it's perfectly normal and prescribes him something to help him relax. Dr. Pierce always gives James the creeps while still managing to endear himself to the younger man. One night in a dingy bar in the middle of Red Hook, a man cat calls him then starts getting fresh. Says his name is Brock and doesn’t James remember him? How couldn’t he? Says he knew James before in the Army and they had always had a thing for James. He offers a romance despite James' destroyed mind and 'deformation’. 

James is pretty sure he’s got it as good as he can have it. Two arms, a beautiful bike, a boyfriend that is kind enough to invite him to hang out with his hilarious friends and ride with their club. He gets patched in pretty quickly, he wears his cutt with pride, makes HYDRA Motorcycle Club proud too. So when Brock comes to him and asks if he can do the club a favor, he jumps at the chance. Brock tells him it’s just a little favor, some asshole shopkeeper doesn’t seem to want to pay HYDRA the dues he owes. Bucky agrees to go with Brock as backup, and it slowly goes from there. A little package running here, intimidation there, every once in awhile he has to bust some teeth, no big deal right? So why does it hurt so much? Why does he keep dreaming of baby blue eyes and blonde hair? Why does he go all squishy inside when he sees lilies in a flower shop window? Why does he get so mad at Brock when he asks him to help him follow some English broad? Why does he feel justified when he breaks Brock's jaw after he finds out he has taken a contract for an assassination? 

Turns out the English broad is Brock's target, seems she works for some Feds looking into HYDRA's less than legal enterprises. James refuses to have anything to do with it, says he "Don't hit broads or kids, I ain't no monster." HYDRA seems to accept this and Brock ends up doing the job. James can't explain it, but his heart breaks when he finds out. He fights with Brock about it and Brock managed to send James to the hospital. 

While James is in the hospital, he finds out he has a sister, she's a nurse now. His head feels like it's splitting in half as strange memories hound him like projected images. The reunion is cut short when Brock comes to take him home, blubbering like a jackass about how sorry he is and how he'll make it all better. Rebecca instantly hates the guy and her eyes say as much as he tries to sweet talk her into taking James home. Brock tells her that James has to see a shrink for his PTSD and memory loss. He says that Dr. Pierce is trying to slowly reintroduce James to the world, it hurts him to try remembering too much at one time. 

Rebecca doesn't really buy any of the snake oil Brock is selling. Unfortunately though, she had no way to hold her brother. She has to let him go back, but not without slipping her phone number into his wallet. 

Doctor Pierce is waiting at James' apartment when Brock drags him back. He is disappointed in James, said he wasn't ready for all this family connections yet, oh and here, take this, it will help you feel better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was installment 2, I know it's kinda a bummer but I have to establish some more feels before the fun can start. I'm floored by the amount of people that read chapter 1, Thanks all for checking it out and virtual Sam cookies to Alisa for commenting on the prolouge!


	3. Five Years Gone By

FIVE YEARS LATER 

“Stevaroonie! Let’s move brother, we have three minutes to leave before we are so late someone important will notice!” Rang Sam’s hyper tone from the other side of the Metro Police garage. Steve gave his his best Captain America disapproves face from his place next to the patrol bike as he finishes strapping on his helmet and adjusted the microphone. “I’ve been here for ten minutes Sam, it’s you that’s making us late…” he snarked. Sam waved his hand dismissively, “Whatever man, potatoe-patatoh!” 

“You know that makes no sense right?” Steve replied as he swung his leg over the large Harley and made himself comfortable. Sam just stuck out his tongue and got on his own bike with a flippantly muttered “Whatever Steve.” to which he got an eyeroll and the middle finger followed by the deeply satisfying rumble of Steve’s motorcycle starting up. Sam laughed and started his own bike waiting for the other man to back the large bike out of the space and roar out of the garage.

“Rogers! Wait up!” he called, his own Harley following Steve’s into the congested New York streets. “Honestly birdboy, with this traffic you could have taken another 5 minutes and still caught up to me.” Steve chuckled into his headset. Before Sam could reply with his rightful outrage over the terrible nickname he couldn’t seem to outlive, a blacked out blur sped past them at breakneck speed. They shared a look and flipped on their lights to follow, Sam called into dispatch as they bobbed and weaved through cars to try to catch this moto-menace. “This guy is NUTS!” Sam yells but it goes unnoticed by the other officer. 

Steve’s focus is intense, he splits lanes and nearly clips a taxi’s mirror as he attempts to ride down the lunatic ahead. He curses as the subject cuts down a narrow alley. “I gott’im Sam!” he crackles into the microphone even as he hears horns honking in outrage. However, he isn’t so sure he’s really ‘gott’im’ when he slows to a stop in the shockingly empty alley. Well, not totally empty - it’s filled with the typical rubbish bins overflowing with stinking bags of refuse. He turns off his bike, flips the stand and dismounts with a grumble, “Where the hell did...” his jaw snaps shut as he hears the slide and click of a pistol being racked back followed by a gruff “Don’t move pig.”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he closes his eyes and is assaulted by visions of his daughter safe, sitting in her play pen at home her aunties Clint and Natasha to keep her company. “I’m not movin’ pal, why don’t you put that thing away before someone gets hurt, huh?” he tries. The sound of that gruff voice is so familiar that his eyes snap open again as the gruff voice in question speaks again, “Why you chasin’ me punk?”. Steve’s brain short circuits then and he turns so quickly he doesn't have time to think about how bad of an idea that is. 

It pays off when he is met with a scruffy brunette with steely eyes he had been in love with since he was a kid, “Bucky?” he asks in total shock. The man’s face twists as if he’s in physical pain, “Who the hell is Bucky?” his voice is softened by confusion and breaks Steve’s heart all over again. Acting without thinking, Steve reaches up and rips at the chinstrap of his helmet pulling the bulky, rounded monstrosity off and tossing it to the ground as he steps closer to the man he knows is his best friend, or at least looks and sounds like him, even if he is still holding a loaded 9mm to his head. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky,” he pauses, licking his dry lips and searching the other man’s face, “I’ve known you my whole life, I thought you were dead, where have you been, are you okay? What happened?!” He may have been babbling but he was scared, he was delighted, he was so confused. Bucky’s face was all confusion and fright, “I don’t know who the fuck you are, back off man or I’ll fucking blow you away, don’t think I won’t.” There was no conviction in the words. His arm dropped slowly taking the threat to the broken cobblestones and stinking trash of the alley and away from Steve. 

Steve shook his head, “Buck… What happened?” his heartbreak was plain as day on his face, in his voice, in the fact that his own hands seemed to be acting without any regard for safety. His hands wrapped themselves around the biceps of his oldest friend, only to find that one arm was harder than flesh could ever be. Bucky shook his head and pulled away completely, winding up and swinging a nasty left hook into Steve’s stupid face. He pulled the hit, but the other guy wouldn’t be able to tell as he dropped like a sack of bricks long enough for the man formerly known as Bucky to haul ass and tear off on his own bike which had been hidden behind a large rusty green dumpster.

When Sam makes it to the alley, we had already called for backup but calls again for officer in distress as he sees Steve slowly standing from the ground cradling his already purpling jaw. Sam stops his bike and runs over to his partner, “Hey Buddy what the hell just happened?” he snaps. Steve just shakes his head, “It was Bucky, I saw him Sam, he’s not gone…” Sam’s face crumples, “Oh man, you need a medic, that guy fucked you up. You gotta be concussed.” Steve shakes his head again, harder, and groans - there's that massive headache -

After being checked by EMS and hours worth of paperwork, Steve is finally allowed to go home to his little girl waiting back at their little brownstone in Brooklyn. As soon as he drops his keys on the table by the door, he can hear her sweet voice cooing in the other room. He smiles through the pain as he closes and locks the front door. “Hey honies, I’m home!” he calls into the house and is greeted in return by Clint’s voice groaning, “Aw, Lily… nooo.” followed by Lily’s infectious giggles. Steve chuckles and walks around the corner into the living room where his little angel has drawn in purple marker all over clint’s face and shirt, “What’s up Clint?” he asks.

Clint looks up and pouts, “I guess it’s a Sharpie, not a Crayola…” he sighs and Steve throws his head back with loud laughter that seems to alert Lily that he’s home. “Da!” she squeals in her little baby tone and throws her chubby arms up, Steve grins indulgently and lifts her up into his arms. “Hey princess, looks like you're having a better day than daddy.” 

Lily frowns then places a baby hand on Steve's swollen and bruising cheek, “Hurt Da?” she asks in awe, Steve smiles again and lifts her higher on his hip, “Just a little baby, means I get to be home with you and auntie Clint for the rest of the day.” At this news she giggles with joy and presses a sloppy kiss to her father’s bruise, “All Betters!” she announces and nods sagely. Clint barks a laugh and stands up to bump Steve’s shoulder, “Rough day at the office?” 

Shrugging, Steve releases the now squirming Lily and watches her toddle away to her pile of plush toys. “You could say that. I think I saw Bucky, he gave me the shiner.” he sighs and flops into his favorite armchair then looks at the suddenly tense Clint who’s purple colored face is now stone serious. “Sorry, but... you think you ran into Bucky?” Steve nods slowly and waits for the other man to diagnose him as a nutter just like Sam had. Rather than that, he gets a thoughtful grunt and watches Clint pull out his StarkPhone. “I’ll see if Nat has any way to confirm.” he says as he starts tapping away at the slim device. 

Lily, seeming to sense her daddy’s distress, fumbles back over and climbs into Steve’s lap. She snuggles up and he wraps an arm around her, just breathing in her baby smell. Before he knows it, he has dozed off and Clint is gently shaking him awake. “Go to bed Steve. We’ll talk tomorrow. Nat says she has some sources to look into.” With a half alert nod, the hulking blonde man complies by standing up, “Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you all.” he says quietly. Clint just sighs and goes in for a brief hug before shooing Steve off to bed to sleep off his aches and maybe some of his pains.


End file.
